


Unfinished Business

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Injury, M/M, Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 15:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon and Jason have some unfinished business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfinished Business

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fififolle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fififolle/gifts).



> Written a birthday fic for fififolle, for the prompt 'Anders/Carter, unfinished business'.
> 
> A note about OCs:  
> Primeval fandom on LiveJournal has generated a number of fanon OCs, created by different authors and freely used by others, to the extent that some of them have now taken on lives of their own. The ones that appear in this fic, Simon Carter and Jason Anders, belong to me.

Simon paced backwards and forwards, and tried to suppress his limp. Strictly speaking he shouldn’t have been putting so much weight on his leg in the first place – his recovery was proceeding well, but the doctors were still telling him to rest whenever he could, and not subject it to too much stress.

But right now he couldn’t sit still. He’d been waiting for an eternity, it felt like, and his nerves were making him restless and jumpy.

Jason had been back for two days, but the necessary debriefing meant that Simon hadn’t heard anything from him beyond a terse text message that morning.

**_Letting us out this pm_ **

And that was it. It was more contact than Simon had had in months, and yet so much less than he’d been expecting, given the way they’d left things. Or rather, given the way things had been left when the unit had been unexpectedly taken off the anomaly project and shipped off to Afghanistan, leaving Simon behind to languish in a hospital bed, courtesy of an irritable ankylosaur.

His leg had been broken in four places – there had been no chance of him going with them.

But now the tour of duty was over, and the unit was back. And apparently Jason wanted to see him.

Simon had felt a certain amount of resentment upon receiving the text, after the total lack of response to any of his emails and letters. Yes, Afghanistan was a war zone, but things were much better over there now than they’d been in the past, and Simon refused to believe that there was absolutely no time for Jason to reply to him.

In the end, he’d had to resign himself to the fact that Jason didn’t want anything more to do with him, and that their friendship was at an end. Along with anything else that might have been.

But then the text had arrived. And briefly, Simon had considered ignoring the obvious request. But when it came right down to it, he couldn’t. It seemed he and Jason still had some unfinished business.

So here he was, hanging around in the barracks. Pacing on an aching leg as he waited for a reunion he hadn’t really been expecting.

“Simon.”

His leg throbbed viciously as he startled, but Simon tried to keep the grimace off his face as he turned around.

However, Jason must have seen it all the same, because his eyes immediately dropped to Simon’s leg, and he said impatiently, “Sit down, you stupid arse.”

“I’m fine,” Simon replied through gritted teeth.

“And I’m a monkey’s uncle.”

“If the shoe fits…”

“Sit the fuck _down_.”

Jason looked like he was going to come and force Simon into a chair if he didn’t comply, so Simon sat. And then tried again – unsuccessfully, he knew – to keep his expression of relief off his face.

“How is it?” Jason sat down opposite him. “And don’t tell me it’s fine again.”

“Better than it was,” Simon said. “But not totally sorted,” he admitted. “Although the doctors think I should be able to go back on active duty when I’m through.”

“That’s good,” said Jason.

An awkward silence fell, in which Jason now seemed to want to look anywhere _other_ than at Simon. Simon let it draw out long enough that it became apparent that Jason wasn’t going to say anything else, and then, prompted by the continuing ache in his leg, asked irritably, “So, what do you want, then?”

Jason looked uncomfortable. “To see you.”

“Why?”

“I…”

“Because you haven’t seemed that bothered about me these past few months.”

“Well, it was a bit mad out there.”

“Even supposing I believe that – and we do get the news here, you know, I have been keeping up with developments – you didn’t even visit me in the hospital before you left! The other lads did, and it wasn’t just me that noticed your absence!”

“Well, I suppose I…”

“You kissed me, Jason!” Simon burst out. “If you regret it, then okay, but you could at least do the polite thing and tell me that instead of disappearing like a coward!”

It had been just one kiss, the day before the incident that had landed Simon in hospital. Unexpected, and over before it really began, but not necessarily unwelcome.

Simon and Jason had been mates since pretty much the moment they’d been assigned to the same unit. Jason was supposed to be the second in command, under Captain Jacobs, but more often than not, he was the one instigating trouble and mischief, dragging Simon along with him, and Simon knew Jason’s antics had seriously pissed off the captain more than once.

But mates were all they were. Simon was well aware of his own nature, and that he found Jason attractive, but he kept quiet for everyone’s sake. It might be all right to be openly gay in Her Majesty’s Armed Forces nowadays, but coming on to someone in your own unit was a monumentally bad idea, unless you were certain you weren’t going to get a smack in the mouth for your trouble.

Then Jason had kissed him. Totally out of the blue, in the middle of a friendly debate about the best way to beat Captain Ryan’s unit in the annual Brecon challenge.

To say that Simon had been stunned would be an understatement. To say he was even more so when Jason muttered an apology and all but ran out of the room would be the understatement of the _century_.

And that was the last he’d seen or heard of one Lieutenant Jason Anders from that day to this, barring passing mentions in emails from Matt or Ben.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said quietly. “I just…I needed to get my head straight.”

“Don’t you think you should have done that _before_ kissing me?” Simon said, in no mood to cut him any slack.

“I know. But I didn’t plan it. I didn’t even know I was going to do it until I did.”

“So why did you do it?”

“Because I wanted to…”

“Obviously not that much, since it disgusted you so much you couldn’t even bring yourself to see me after that!”

“It didn’t disgust me. I just…”

“Needed to get your head straight,” Simon finished for him. “Right.” Suddenly he felt tired. His leg ached, and he was starting to think that coming here had been a very stupid idea. He’d let himself get his hopes up, and that made him an idiot. “Can I assume you have got your head straight now?” he asked. “Along with a few other things?”

“I suppose so…”

“Well, there’s no need to let me down gently. I’ve pretty much already worked out that it was a mistake. If you want to still be mates, we could try that, I guess.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve waited long enough for an apology that it’s all a bit redundant now, but I suppose I’m grateful that you’ve explained yourself – finally.”

“Si, that’s not what I want.”

“You don’t want to be mates? All right, I can understand th–”

Jason kissed him. Again.

This time it was a bit more forceful, and lasted considerably longer, and when they finally broke apart Simon found himself at a loss for words.

“I know, I know,” Jason was saying. “Not a great idea to try the same plan again, but…”

“What the _fuck?_ ” Simon discovered his voice.

Jason gave him a sheepish look. “Well, I got my head straight and realised I’d been a total wanker,” he said. “Running away like that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. _That’s_ what I regret, not kissing you in the first place. Of course, it took a while for me to work that out.”

“I’ll say!”

“I’m sorry,” said Jason. He smiled slightly, obviously taking heart from the fact that Simon hadn’t punched him yet. “Forgive me?”

“I don’t know.”

“I could kiss you again, if that would help?”

“Don’t push your luck.” Simon hadn’t completely ruled out the idea of punching Jason, but he was rather preoccupied by the fact that some of those things he’d been secretly hoping for, so many months ago, might actually some to pass after all. If he _could_ forgive Jason.

“Si?” Jason sounded uncomfortable now. “I can go, if you want me to?”

He looked poised to flee, and, “No!” said Simon quickly. “Don’t. I…it’s just going to take some time, that’s all. You made me feel like a fool, and I can’t just forget that. But, well…”

“Well…?” Jason echoed hopefully.

“How about we go for a drink, and take it from there?” Simon decided.

“A drink, okay.” Jason nodded enthusiastically. Then his eyes dropped. “But what about your leg?”

“My leg’s fine,” Simon said, and then grimaced at Jason’s disbelieving look. “Okay, it’s not _fine_ , not yet. I’ll probably suffer tomorrow for giving it too much of a workout today, but right now I think it can cope with me sitting in a pub for a couple of hours.”

“You want to go for a drink now?”

“Yes – when did you think I meant?”

“I…never mind!”

“You can tell me all the news from the tour. Well, what you’re allowed to tell me, anyway.”

“Definitely. Wait until you hear the story about Ben almost dying again.”

“ _Again?_ I know he didn’t actually kick the bucket, but seriously?”

“Yep. The guy’s got more lives than a cat.”

“Several cats!” Simon shook his head in amazement, and then levered himself out of his chair, pleased to find that his leg didn’t object as much as he’d thought it would, and secretly even more pleased by the way Jason’s eyes watched his every movement. “Shall we go, then? The King’s Head down the road do you?”

“Anything’s better than Afghani moonshine.”

“Well in that case, the first round’s on you.”

“I think all the rounds are on me, don’t you?” Jason said, sheepish again.

Simon looked at him for a moment, and then grinned. “It’s a start.”


End file.
